John 16:12-15 “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. 13 When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. 14 He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. 15 All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.

Romans 5:1-5 Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

Proverbs 8:1-4, 22-31 1 Does not wisdom call, and does not understanding raise her voice?
2 In the heights, beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand;
3 beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals she cries out:
4 “To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live.
22 The Lord created me at the beginning of his work, the first of his acts of long ago.
23 Ages ago I was set up, at the first, before the beginning of the earth.
24 When there were no depths I was brought forth, when there were no springs abounding with water.
25 Before the mountains had been shaped, before the hills, I was brought forth—
26 when he had not yet made earth and fields, or the world’s first bits of soil.
27 When he established the heavens, I was there, when he drew a circle on the face of the deep,
28 when he made firm the skies above, when he established the fountains of the deep,
29 when he assigned to the sea its limit, so that the waters might not transgress his command, when he marked out the foundations of the earth,
30 then I was beside him, like a master worker; and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always,
31 rejoicing in his inhabited world and delighting in the human race.

[sermon begins]

Jesus tells his disciples that, “I still have many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now.” That’s about as frustrating on the listeners’ side as it can get. Imagine someone telling you that they’d fill you in on the main things if only you could understand them. This happens all the time when we’re children. The kids in the room know what I’m talking about. In fact, Jesus starts his speech that includes the reading from John today by calling his disciples, “Little children…”[1] Judas betrays Jesus, skulks off into the night, and Jesus starts talking using the endearment of “little children.” There is a kindness in the endearment but there is also a limit that Jesus places on his listeners. He knows and tells them that they cannot bear the weight of what he has to say.

When I was four, my feet found their way into a pair of ballet slippers. There’s was a lot to learn. A lot of strength to be gained. But mostly, from my newly slippered perspective, there was love of the dance. Body and music working together to make something new along with sounds of Bach and Tchaikovsky. Classical ballet was a fairly consistent part of life even with the family relocations. I don’t know how my mother did it through some of the family chaos. It’s possible it made me easier to live with. But truly, in hindsight, dance made it more possible for me to live.

Around the age of 13, my ballet teacher started talking about point shoes. You know these shoes. They’re part of the classic image of ballet dancers moving around on their toes. For the dancer, point shoes are a big moment. The joy of that moment of readiness is heady and alive. There is much that goes into being ready. Dancing en pointe means the strength and coordination are there to bear the weight of the body. When the strength isn’t there – the toes can’t bear the body weight and it’s highly possible there will be pain and a lot of it.

Similarly, Jesus knows his disciples aren’t ready to bear the weight of what he has to say. At this point in the story, Jesus is still alive. There is no crucifixion or resurrection to give the disciples perspective. Paul’s letter to the Romans is well after the crucifixion as the early church is making sense of what happened to Jesus. Paul talks about the experience of suffering moving to endurance, character and, finally, hope. Hope that comes through the love of God by the power of the Holy Spirit. That’s a lot for him to put in one or two sentences. Let’s slow it down a bit.

In the midst of suffering, it’s hard to have perspective and even harder when someone tries to give you their perspective. It’s like the time-space continuum starts moving really differently. This happens when you’re sick enough to land in the hospital or losing a loved one or lost a job or making a tough move or fighting depression. Perspective is possible typically only after there’s been an experience and time passes. Even then it can be a stretch to look back on the experience, realize you’ve come through it, and make any meaning out of it – framing it with other experiences.

We tend to think of this individually. But the Proverbs reading tells us that Wisdom speaks publically. “On the heights, beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand; beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals she cries out…” Wisdom speaks publically in the places where people are together. Also in the Proverbs reading, Wisdom holds the perspective of time. Before the beginning of the earth, before the heavens and the deep, Wisdom was there. Part of wisdom is public when people are together and part of wisdom is time. It’s difficult to gain perspective when we’re alone in the middle a mess.

Before seminary and becoming a pastor, I spent about 10 years as an adult worshiper. Listening to sermons was a highlight of worship and my week. Scripture and life come together – sometimes like a breath of fresh air and sometimes in a gnarly collision. Sometimes I agreed with the preacher and sometimes I didn’t. Mostly I was thankful for the reminders week-after-week that the people described by scripture were often just as lost, just as forgetful, just as gifted, and just as loved by God as I am in this beautiful struggle called life.

I needed and still need the forgiveness and strength that are given freely week-after-week in confession, preaching, bread, and wine and reinforced by the worship liturgy both in words and body motion. When I worship now as a pastor, I’m still grateful for the chances to hear another preacher remind us that we’re just as lost, forgetful, gifted, and loved as everybody else. That is a gift of perspective. A gift of wisdom.

For ballet dancers, being ready to dance is partly about practicing coordinated movement with other dancers. For people of faith, living this beautiful struggle called life is partly about regularly practicing the faith with other people. Just as the disciples are together with Jesus in the Bible reading today, we are together with Jesus through scripture and worship by the power of the Holy Spirit. So together, the Holy Spirit draws us into perspective and hope through the love of God.

This Sunday, we celebrate the Holy Trinity – God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The Trinity is shared experience of otherness within itself – separate yet whole. A mystery revealed to us by Jesus who suffered, died, and lives again. The Trinity integrates us into shared experience with God and with each other through worship and life in the world.

The dance between Father – Spirit – Son makes it possible for us to live.

No one says it like Paul says it to the Roman church and also to us:

“Therefore, since we are justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, 2 through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. 3 And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.”

Amen and thanks be to God.

Hymn of the Day sung by everyone in response to the sermon.

Come, Join the Dance of Trinity (ELW 412)

Come, join the dance of Trinity, before all worlds begun –

The interweaving of the Three, the Father, Spirit, Son.

The universe of space and time did not arise by chance,

But as the Three, in love and hope, made room within their dance.

Come see the face of Trinity, newborn in Bethlehem;

Then bloodied by a crown of thorns outside Jerusalem.

The dance of Trinity is meant for human flesh and bone;

When fear confines the dance in death, God rolls away the stone.

Come, speak aloud of Trinity, as wind and tongues of flame

Set people free at Pentecost to tell the Savior’s name.

We know the yoke of sin and death, our necks have worn it smooth;

Go tell the world of weight and woe that we are free to move!

Within the dance of Trinity, before all worlds begun,

We sing the praises of the Three, the Father, Spirit, Son.

Let voices rise and interweave, by love and hope set free,

To shape in song this joy, this life: the dance of Trinity.

[1] John 13:33a [Jesus says to his disciples] “Little children, I am with you only a little longer…”

Matthew 22:1-14 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, “Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, “The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests. 11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

It’s closing in on that time of year. The time of spooks and ghouls, candy and costumes. As the official door answerer in our home, I myself sport a combo of halo and horns – get it, saint and sinner – a ginormous bowl of candy, and a big smile for the kids in costume…and maybe even a tolerant smile for the teenagers in masks and make-up who show up hoping for the Snickers score. It’s also the time of year when someone invariably comes up with the idea for a field trip to a haunted house.

Haunted houses are a thrill-a-minute for those who love them. For me, they’re too much. Too much dread. Too much dark. Too much lurking in the dark. I’m not built to enjoy the buzz of adrenalin in response to being terrified. In fact, midway through the last haunted house I let myself get talked into twenty years ago, I stopped in my tracks and said into the pitch-black-dark, “Show me the way out of here…RIGHT NOW!” To which some ghoul flicked on a flash-light and, said in that ghoulish Hollywood way, “Waaalk thisss waaay…” while guiding me out with the flashlight.

At least when we open the Bible, there’s no haunted house there. Oh, wait, maybe there is, sort of. At least this parable that Jesus is telling sure seems dark, with a lot of built in dread.

Jesus has already told a few stories since entering the temple after being questioned by the religious leaders. These religious leaders ask him about where his authority comes from and then Jesus waxes on into story, into parable.[1] If the first two parables he told were intense, this third one is downright extreme. And Jesus also ups the ante by beginning with the teaser, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to…” This lead-in is so much bigger than “once upon a time.” Jesus’ listeners, the religious leaders, having already challenged his authority, are even more attentive to what he might say because he mentions the kingdom of heaven.

“Once more, Jesus spoke to them in parables saying: “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.” There’s an immediate kicker in that no one who is invited to the party comes to the party. Huh. The king, to whom no one usually says, “no,” suddenly isn’t even getting RSVPs. People just simply aren’t showing up. And this is only the beginning of the absurdity.

The king sends slaves with a message of good food, good smells, and good company with the king. Some of the people laugh and walk away, while other people kill the king’s messengers. The king throws a king-sized hissy fit – kills the people invited but who didn’t show up to the wedding banquet and burns down their city. Anyone in need of that ghoul with a flashlight from the haunted house yet – showing us the way out of this death and destruction?

Then the story softens just a bit, going from worse to just bad, when the king sends out more slaves to simply collect whoever will come to this now farcically enforced banquet. “Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.” I don’t know where you land on the topic of forced festivity but it doesn’t work for me. Imagine being collected for a party where you know the host killed the other people who didn’t show up for the party and burned down their town.

In the middle of this murder, mayhem, and enforced festivity, is a man. A man not dressed to play the part into which he was conscripted by the king. A speechless man who did not respond when the king would call him, “Friend.”

One horrifying part of this parable is indeed the king and his actions. The move that often gets made out of this parable is that this king is interpreted to be God.[2] Jesus begins the parable by saying that, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king…” Suddenly, we as listeners’ make the leap that the king must then be God before we get to the end of the parable. Yet another easy move to make in this parable is that it’s so easy for us as listeners to equate ourselves with the ones not thrown out. And suddenly we live into what the theologian James Alison calls the pathology of belonging – creating togetherness by getting rid of someone.[3]

This speechless man is bound hand and foot and tossed out. Not just tossed out of the party but tossed out where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. He becomes the tossed-out one. Where else in the Gospel of Matthew may there be found such a one? Try a few chapters later in the story of Jesus’ crucifixion. During the events leading up to his crucifixion, through the crucifixion itself, we are told of one who dies. The one who is silent in the face of challenge[4], the one who is mocked for being in the wrong clothes[5], the one who is bound hand and foot[6], the one who is hung on a cross where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth[7], the one who is forsaken,[8] the one who hangs under a sign announcing his kingship[9], and the one who is finally announced as God’s Son.[10]

The parable’s king and the wedding banquet for his son are an absurd portrait of kingship and its festive accoutrement run amuck. The parable’s thrown-out-one is the one who reveals the farce.

On Friday evening, my husband Rob and I attended the New Beginnings Church Annual Celebration and Fundraiser here in Augustana’s Fellowship Hall. Many Augustana people were also in the mix of almost 200 people from other churches and denominations. Thank you to those of you who came, those who gave money, and those who pray for and volunteer with New Beginnings Church.

New Beginnings is a congregation that worships within the walls of the Denver Women’s Correctional Facility. This is a great ministry for which I’ve been substitute preaching over the last seven years. For the obvious reason of incarceration, the congregation is 100% dependent on donations that include supporting the leadership and pastoral care given to the women by ordained Pastor Terry Schjang.

The women of New Beginnings are held accountable for their crimes while at the same time receive care for the high rate of sexual and physical abuse they experienced prior to incarceration, typically early in their lives. These women are often the thrown-out ones, forgotten behind the double razor wire fences and the severity of their crimes.

On Friday night, we heard from Denise. Denise is a four-time offender recently released from prison. She claimed responsibility for her choices and named the shame that began it all. Different for her this time in prison is her experience in New Beginnings. Different for her this time is how she hears that Jesus, the thrown-out one, the crucified and risen one, is the one who has occupied the place of shame and is not run by it.[11] Jesus, the one who undoes our narrative of futility. Jesus, the one whose forgiveness opens up our past in such a way that stretches out our future.[12]

Denise’s story, while socially extreme, bears similarities to many of our own stories. The mash-up of paradoxes may be more visible in her story but the tension of those paradoxes exist nonetheless. The paradoxes of accountability and forgiveness, justice and freedom, past and future, shame and wholeness, perpetrator and victim all collide at the cross of Christ.

This collision at the cross of Christ puts to death the pathology of belonging and brings to life a community through which God brings all people into God, through which God reconciles us to God. All of us brought to God through the God humbly born into skin and solidarity with us in the person of Jesus, the God who shows us through Jesus how to love and how much we are loved even through death on a cross. This is the mystery of faith that is for Denise, for me, and for you. This is the mystery of faith that we are called to steward. This is the mystery of faith that claims us in a broken world, in the valley of the shadow of death, drawing us into life right now, today, through the cross of Christ singing a defiant “alleluia”.

[Those who assemble for worship sing many “alleluias” together in the hymn “At the Lamb’s High Feast We Sing” – ELW #362]

[1] Many people try to explain what a parable is by explaining what it’s sort of like. Explaining parable can sometimes sound like this, “Well, it’s allegory but not really clean allegory with obvious 1:1 correlation; it’s metaphor but not simple poetry.” Since it’s not clear-cut, I’m going to suggest that today we go with James Allison’s explanation of parable – that parable disrupts the listeners’ unexamined assumptions.

[2] Debbie Blue, one of the founding pastors of House of Mercy in St. Paul, MN. Find her commentary on Matthew 22:1-14, “Murder and Mayhem” archived at the following link to Spark House: The Hardest Question: http://thq.wearesparkhouse.org/yeara/ordinary28gospel/

Matthew 28:16-20 Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

2 Corinthians 13:11-13 Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you. 12Greet one another with a holy kiss. All the saints greet you.13The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit be with all of you.

Last Sunday’s worship was a doozy. Between the festival of Pentecost and the celebration of Pastor Pederson’s ministry, along with his retirement, it might even be described as epic. It held moments of poignant joy, of laughter through tears – that rare combination of ethos and pathos that sent many of us out on a high that was, dare we say, Pentecostal.

Saying a good “Goodbye” blesses the ones leaving and the ones left behind. And we have said goodbye well. But there is more to a farewell than parties, portraits, and parting words. Farewells are work. For starters, there is individual work of figuring out how this new farewell taps and stacks with the other farewells in our pasts. The individual work is important so that we don’t inflict pain from out past goodbye’s to the present moment. Then there is the congregational work of what Pastor Pederson’s retirement reveals about who we are without his leadership. This work is important so that we can offer a good welcome a new pastor.

Paul’s letter to the Corinthians helps us think about farewells. “Finally, brothers and sisters, farewell. Put things in order, listen to my appeal, agree with one another, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.”[1]

Along the lines of putting things in order, staff just met together and drafted out the church calendar for the next year; Personnel Committee is working toward the selection of an Interim Pastor; Stewardship Committee has made some first steps in teaching and leading us to think about the connection between faith, time, and money; and many other ministries are continuing their work within and outside of the congregation. So, okay, maybe not as invigorating as a good festival but it’s the real stuff of real life where most of us live on most days.

Once the big Pentecostal energy subsides, life together in the church continues. And, of course, the life of the congregation is not an end unto itself. In this particular instance, the apostle Paul and the preacher John Pederson find easy agreement. Just as Paul reminds the Corinthians that there is grace in the Lord Jesus Christ, there is love in God, and there is the communion of the Holy Spirit, so we heard last week that we might also “want to ring the gospel bell.”

Which brings us so nicely into the verses in Matthew where Jesus says to, “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” As 21st century Christians, 21st century Jesus-people, the disciples’ commissioning can seem too big. There’s too much certainty in it. There’s too much history between those words and our world today.

These verses in Matthew have a sordid past. People often talk to me about the 13th century Crusades, the 16th century Spanish Inquisition, or the 20th century Native American boarding schools when they’re telling me why Christianity doesn’t work for them. These atrocities wrought by the church in the world can turn us into ‘either/or’ people pretty quickly. Either we reject the whole of Christianity outright deciding that we want no part of whatever leads to the Crusades. Or we believe a life of faith looks like inspiring, festival joy without considering what the death of God in a body on a cross might mean in our lives.

Either end of this spectrum doesn’t quite get at anything. People of all religious and non-religious types do all kinds of things good, bad, and ugly. Christians might call the good things people do in terms of being “created in the image of God”; and Christians might call the bad and the ugly things that people do “sin.” Neither the violence of forced conversions nor the 24/7 rejoicing gives us a footing to understand Jesus’ commissioning of disciples – then OR now. The problem is that little word “understanding.” This little word that can suddenly turn us into a group of people who think WE are the good news rather than a group of people brought together by a desperate hunger to feast on the good news.

Holy Trinity Sunday adds an extra dash of trouble because it ups the ante on understanding. Suddenly we’re all trying to understand metaphor to understand Trinity rather than be claimed and secured by the good news of Jesus Christ. Along this line, one of my new favorite voices is 20th century preacher Lesslie Newbigin. He compiled and edited a lecture series called The Gospel in a Pluralist Society. The gist of one lecture is that Western Christians are often so concerned about avoiding the label of arrogance that we become either apathetic and never talk about our faith or overly anxious about proving whatever it is we think is true about our faith.[2] Once again, acting out of the assumption that we ourselves are the good news.

The correction to our assumptions is of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Listen to Jesus’ words in Matthew:

16Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Jesus is leaving. These words are his farewell. Along the lines of a good farewell, Jesus reminds the disciples and us about putting things in good order. And this order begins with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – not with us. Not with us who worship, nor with us who doubt, but with God.

I like how Newbigin puts this:

It is an action of God, the triune God – of God the Father who is ceaselessly at work in all creation and in the hearts and minds of all human beings whether they acknowledge him or not, graciously guiding history toward it’s true end; of God the Son who has become part of this created history in the incarnation; and of God the Holy Spirit who is given as a foretaste of the end to empower and teach the Church and to convict the world of sin and righteousness and judgment. Before we think about our role, the role of our words and deeds in mission, we need to have firmly in the center of our thinking this action of God.[3]

On this Holy Trinity Sunday, may you be given confidence in Christ through your baptism in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. As Christ reassures his disciples, may you also hear him clearly say to you, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew 24:36-44 A Future With Hope [or Enough With the Rapture Already]

December 1, 2013 – Caitlin Trussell

Augustana Lutheran Church, Denver, CO

“But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. For as the days of Noah were, so will be the coming of the Son of Man. For as in those days before the flood they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day Noah entered the ark, and they knew nothing until the flood came and swept them all away, so too will be the coming of the Son of Man. Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Keep awake therefore, for you do not know on what day your Lord is coming. But understand this: if the owner of the house had known in what part of the night the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and would not have let his house be broken into.Therefore you also must be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour.

For one long summer, I was a day-camp counselor. Not the super-fun-guitar-strumming kind – just kick that little bit of counselor stereotype right on outta here. Oh no, I was the 17-year-old-in-charge-of-a-large-group-of-5-year-old-girls kind of counselor. I was more the protector-against-mortal-peril kind of counselor – think mother hen. Our location was cool but slightly tricky for herding 12 little girls. It was a dried out river arroyo near Pasadena, California. Water hadn’t run through it in eons and it was full of scrub oak and draught-resistant trees and the constant threat of poison oak. We built a group fort and created a group flag which means that there was fort raiding and flag stealing going on. It was utter triumph to show up at the end of the day flag ceremony with another group’s flag – a sign of a successful raid.

Victory and shame were the two-sides of that stolen flag event. The ultimate in victory was to show up at the flag ceremony with another groups’ kid – but for the counselor with the missing kid, it was the ultimate shame. Any of you want to guess who one of those shamed camp counselors was at the end of the day? Yup, yours truly. Oh, the ultimate shame…knowing your kid was taken and knowing the return would be anything but a triumph. After all, even in this fairly innocent form, being taken was not a good thing…

Being taken is rarely a good thing. In fact, our gospel writer seems to have a strong bias against being taken, a problem so big that no one would ever knowingly opt into it. Revisiting the flood story reveals this negative bias. The people swept away in the flood story, the ones not on the ark, were leading their normal lives until they suddenly were not. Through the story of those lost in the flood, the gospel writer is setting up the negative lens of being taken.

The negative lens of being taken is the set up to read the next verses. There are two workers in the field, one taken the other not; and the two women grinding meal together, one taken and one left. Through the lens of the flood story, being taken out of the field or away from the grinding are big problems in this text. And of course that’s problematic! Who would want to be living life in one moment and only to be taken out of it the next?!

In the context of the gospel of Matthew, being taken is a bad deal. At the time of its writing, chaos was in full force. The Roman occupation left the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem destroyed, there were wars and rumors of wars, and many people were suddenly being taken away, kidnapped either to be killed or enslaved.[1] In this text being taken is a bad deal. For people curious about or hurt by rapture theology, this begs a critical question? [2] If being taken is a bad deal, might the gospel be suggesting that being left behind is the better deal?

For some of us long told otherwise about being left behind, just asking this question of scripture can be good news indeed. And, for some of us, it may be the only good news needed today. However, in the interest of full disclosure on the Bible text today, there’s more…you just have to wait for it – which is appropriate because Advent is a time of waiting.

As Advent begins, the first Sunday is filled with the image of actively waiting and keeping watch. This scripture argues for watchfulness in the midst of life being lived. Notice that the list of activities of those washed away in the flood were simply normal activities, not tied to judgment – “they were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage.” The workers in the field and the women grinding meal are doing the work of daily living. So, by their example, we are also encouraged to be living and working and taking care of the things of daily life even, and maybe especially, in the midst of the chaos of the times.

This is part of the reassurance of this text. There is a lot that cannot be controlled. But there is still life to live. And into the chaos, the wars, the kidnappings, and just as equally into the work, the life, the events of the day, comes the Son of Man. The Son of Man is also called “the Son” as well as “Lord” in these verses. All of these labels mean Jesus. Jesus is the Son; Jesus is Lord; and Jesus is the Son of Man. It’s important to spell this out because there seems to be a temptation to disconnect the Son of Man in this passage in Matthew from the Jesus revealed in the gospels as a whole. As if somehow Jesus lived, loved, healed, and died, and then resurrected in a seriously bad mood ready to wield some divine wrath upon a fallen humanity.

It is not so difficult to fathom how idea of the Son of Man became disconnected from the Jesus who died on the cross. It is the same disconnect made by the criminal on the cross from our gospel reading last week, hanging next to Jesus who was also on a cross and challenging him to save them both if he was the actually Messiah. Regardless, the one who hung on the cross is also called the Son of Man. And this is a word of comfort and hope to Jesus followers during the confusing times of the first century and the equally if not more confusing times of the 21st century.

Because, as Pastor Pederson reminded us yesterday at Nina Forgo’s memorial service, Christian people model life not on one particular morality or philosophy or piety. In relation to this text today, I would add that Christian people do not model life on panic or fear either.

Rather, Christian people’s lives hinge on promise, God’s promise.

God’s promise that insists there is more to the human story and God’s own story than that which has been experienced already.

God’s promise that the Son of Man, for whom we wait and stay watchful this Advent, is the Christ who walked the earth as healer of those in need and died on a cross for all.[3]

God’s promise that draws us into the fullness of the future, a future with hope.[4]

[1] Barbara R. Rossing. The Rapture Exposed: The Message of Hope in the Book of Revelation. (New York: Basic Books, 2004), 178-181.

"Caitlin Trussell tells the truth of our Christian Faith with so much kindness, wisdom and conviction that I am always left wanting more. She's one heck of a preacher and speaker."

- Rev. Nadia Bolz-Weber, founding pastor of House for All Sinners and Saints (ELCA Denver, Co), Published Author, International Speaker, patheos.com/blogs/nadiabolzweber/

"Caitlin Trussell approaches the gospel with the passion of an evangelist, the creativity of an artist, and the pastoral sensitivity of a loving parent. She unfailingly helps everyday Christians find God in their reading and hearing of the Scriptures and always finds a message that both challenges and comforts us with the good news of Christ. She is, in short, a superb teacher and preacher of the Word."

Rev. Dr. David Lose, President of Lutheran Theological Seminary at Philadelphia; and writer at www.davidlose.net

"Caitlin is one of the best preachers I’ve had the privilege of learning from. She has a gift to open new places in the mind and heart – for audiences new to the message of God’s love, and for “old hands” like me as well! With her breadth of experience – raising kids, nursing cancer victims, pastoring people in prisons and hospice, and graduating from seminary – she brings depth and wisdom.”